Razor Blade Wind Chimes…

Smoke rises… the tension is brewing…

Crossing the line in the sand…

Here stand all things wrong… Held up the the arms of the self righteous…

Finger on the trigger…  We are so close… Breathe and squeeze…

But will never know the hurt of the other land…

Blood flows from the head of the hole in the motherland…

Razor blade wind chimes swing on the porches…

Bullet wounds patched by paper mached hundred dollar bills…

but here we stand… smiles and all…

eating popcorn… entertained by our downfall…

 

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